“I am not quite so sure. In Kentucky, it was held that they could be, if the entertainment was furnished in good faith, without the knowledge that the youngster was acting improperly and contrary to the wishes of his guardian; and it was even held that the innkeeper had a lien for money given to the boy and expended by him for necessaries,”[387] I remarked.
“I trust,” said my companion, “that there is not very much more to be said on the subject. I feel that I am growing thin, and will soon require a lean-to to support me.”
“You are like the rest of the world, ingrate and thankless. Here I have been giving you freely of what has cost me long, weary hours of study and gallons of petroleum, and still you grumble. Only two points more would I endeavor to impress upon your memory, the knowledge of which may prove to be worth to you fully the cost of this drive of ours.”
“Well, I will restrain myself and lend a listening ear.”
“In the first place, if an innkeeper should retain your trunks for your hotel bill, you need pay him nothing for his trouble in taking care of them thereafter; when you are flush again, you may call, and on paying the original amount due, demand your traps.[388] In that way, you see, you may sometimes get rid of the trouble of carrying your baggage about with you. Then, again, whenever possible, travel in company, with all the baggage in one trunk; let the one who owns the trunk pay his bill, and then all may go on their way rejoicing; for where a paterfamilias took his daughters to an hotel and the board of all was charged to the old man, (who afterward became insolvent) it was well decided that the trunks of one of the girls could not be detained for the whole amount due by the party. Every man for himself, seems to be the rule.”[389]
“What are you two men gossiping about?” suddenly broke in Mrs. Lawyer, she and her companion having fully exhausted their stock of chit-chat.
“Gossiping!” said De Gex; “no indeed; as Sir Boyle Roche would say, I deny the allegation, and defy the allegator.”
“None with a properly constituted mind would indulge in such a thing; for George Eliot well defines gossip to be ‘a sort of smoke which comes from the dirty tobacco-pipes of those who diffuse it,’ and remarks that it proves nothing but the bad taste of the smoker,” I added.
The ladies seemed conscience-stricken, for neither replied, and for some time we all sat in silence, enjoying the delicious coolness of eventide; each was busied in private castle-building, or “watching out the light of sunset, and the opening of that beadroll which some oriental poet describes as God’s call to the little stars, who each answer, ‘Here am I!’”